Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 1585

Chapter 1585: Breakdown

Moments later, Atticus found himself trailing behind Anorah as they made their way toward his training room on the hill.

Her pace was brisk, and not once did she turn to look at him from the moment they left the hall.

’She’s definitely mad.’

She didn’t slow until they reached the training room, and the moment they stepped inside, Anorah crossed the space and moved straight to the terminal embedded in the wall. Then she began silently altering the room’s configuration.

Atticus remained where he was, watching in silence.

’Should I apologize?’

He hadn’t exactly done anything wrong. At least, he didn’t think so. Was not doing what your woman wanted somehow wrong by default?

He really hoped not. Otherwise, he’d just fucked up spectacularly, and the last thing he wanted was to return to a world without sex.

He swallowed.

’I should say something.’

"Hello..."

Atticus cringed immediately and cursed himself inwardly, then cleared his throat.

"I... I can see that you’re somehow mad. Why don’t you calm down first?"

Anorah turned slowly, giving him a strange look.

"What do you mean? I’m calm."

"So you’re not angry?"

"I’m not."

Atticus let out a quiet sigh of relief and allowed himself a small smile.

"Good. For a second there, I thought you were angry."

"...."

She stared at him for several seconds without speaking, then turned back to the terminal. The terrain shifted rapidly, an endless desert, then frozen plains of ice, sprawling grasslands, crashing oceans. When the scenery flickered from forest to city, Atticus finally frowned and stepped closer.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"That’s right... does Asterra have training rooms like this? I don’t think I’ve seen one."

"..."

"Are you looking for a specific terrain? I can help."

"No."

Atticus exhaled.

’She’s definitely angry.’

Were women always this complicated? Why insist she was calm when she so clearly wasn’t? Was there some unspoken language he hadn’t learned yet? He shook his head.

"Listen," he said, "I know you’re angry. Can you stop pressing that terminal so we can talk about it?"

"There’s nothing to talk about," Anorah replied flatly. "You already made your choice."

"And you’re angry because it’s not what you wanted?"

She paused and her hands tightened into fists. A moment later, she loosened them and resumed tapping at the terminal.

"No."

"Then why are you angry?" Atticus pressed. "Just tell me. Ignoring it won’t make it go away."

Her fingers struck the terminal harder now.

"Anorah..."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Atticus frowned, then reached out and closed his hand around her fingers, only to stiffen when he felt them trembling. He looked up at her face and froze as tears streamed silently down her cheeks.

"Anorah... why...?"

She turned away and wiped at her eyes.

"...I hate it."

"Hate what?"

Atticus narrowed his eyes slightly.

’I’ve been meaning to ask you... since you’re the ego in the exo suit. You’ve been in my head for most of my life and only awakened recently. Why are you... you? And how do you wield such control over the elements?’

Silence followed, stretching for several seconds.

’Clarity would no—’

’You don’t know either, do you?’

’...’

’Back in my mindscape, you said you didn’t know why you were helping me. It’s because you have no memories from before we bonded... isn’t it?’

Her silence answered him more clearly than her words ever could. Atticus didn’t press further. He was already confident in his conclusion, though the implications of it remained uncertain.

’My earlier assumption may be right. That person... or someone else from the higher planes... sent her to Eldoralth.’

What her purpose was, however, remained a mystery.

With no way to uncover the truth now, Atticus pushed the thought aside.

’I should answer this...’

His gaze drifted to the katana resting at his waist, and he frowned faintly.

’It’s calling to me.’

This summons felt different from the others. There was no pressure, no insistence, none of the familiar pull of urgency. It felt more like an invitation, one he was free to accept or decline.

For a moment, Atticus considered ignoring it. The fifth trial hadn’t been deadly, but there was no guarantee the sixth would be any different.

’Should I risk it?’

He recalled the moment he’d stood surrounded by Marquis at the climax of the Ascension Game and let out a quiet sigh.

’It better not be a death trap.’

Atticus directed his awareness into the katana, and the world shifted as his consciousness was wrenched away.

A second later, wind roared past him as he found himself falling through open sky.